


Something There That Wasn't There Before

by Lilviscious



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Family, Gen, Sibling Rivalry, Wayne Enterprises, older!Damian, short fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 07:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15659040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilviscious/pseuds/Lilviscious
Summary: Over the years the hostile relationship Tim shared with his youngest brother has stabilized into an agreement that no physical harm should befall them over arguments of the past. The family is relieved, but Tim turns suspicious after Damian Wayne joins him at the Wayne Enterprises at his twenty-first birthday as a colleague and the boundaries of their agreement is tested. The conclusion is baffling.





	Something There That Wasn't There Before

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song: 'Something There' from the Disney movie 'Beauty and the Beast'.
> 
> Rating is Teen and up for a few cussing words in the story.
> 
> Every time I hear that song, I picture Tim and Damian coming together as peers as they have grown older and out of the rivalry that meant hostility whenever they were put in the same space. Older!Damian is my weakness at the moment, so this was also purely self-indulgent.
> 
> Do tell me what you thought of this short story! Leave a kudo if you liked it!

The past arrangement worked perfectly. 

Which was why Tim could only turn his inquiring gaze to the stars and ask whatever God was listening why he had just gotten off the phone with Bruce who felt it necessary to inform him personally that Damian was joining his department at the company, starting tomorrow, and that he should not be alarmed at the sight of him. He would be there as an asset, not a threat. Alright, but it was still his right to be _extremely_ cautious, Tim thought while chewing on his pen.

Damian had been leading the Titans for years and while Tim wouldn’t admit it to him, he was doing a fine job. It also assured him that the youngest brother was nowhere near Gotham’s streets or Wayne Enterprises most of the time. Tim had his own projects in Gotham and kept a low profile during most co-operation missions Batman instigated between the family and the Titans. Fortunately there had been few times he had encountered Damian without the supervision of their father, his brothers or Alfred. Family holidays were still somewhat chaotic with one brother pissing another off another no matter what time of the year. Sometimes it wasn’t even him and Damian, but Jason and Dick bickering about some newly flavored burger. Tim would call it a successful holiday whenever Damian didn’t try antagonize him. They had a surprising strike going on, five in a row now, which meant almost a whole year without them trying to claw each other’s face off. It was refreshing, to say the least, not to have his guard up at the holidays.

However. Damian was penetrating his territorium by applying for a career at the office. He had come for the Batman’s cowl, Tim knew. It was his birthright, as the brat had reminded them off for years. His involvement at the company had also been a future step Tim had predicted, but he’d reconned he’d have more time to prepare. Damian legally becoming an adult had felt so far away and he suddenly feared not having stayed in personal contact might have given him a disadvantage.

It occupied the back of his mind for weeks after Damian first showed up at the office, clad in a suit much more valuable than Tim’s own, looking like he actually owned the place as he reported directly to Lucius for work and sat on opposite ends of the table during staff meetings, leaning forward with stapled hands brooding on company issues. They hardly agreed with each other, but knew better than to let disagreements become personal in the company of shareholders and company management.

Tim watched him during the day out of the corner of his eye, moved through the corridors mindful of his presence and his own prefered personal space. He lurked at the coffee machine in the breakroom and snuck out quietly whenever Damian entered. The sassy remarks he carried as his arsenal laid unequipped as Damian kept his distance. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“He is blatantly ignoring me,” Tim complained one sunday evening having joined his oldest brother in Blüdhaven in his apartment. “There’s something he’s keeping from me.”  
“What are you talking about Tim? That’s exactly what **you** have been doing the past three years. Aren’t you a bit overreacting?” Dick told him with a surprised laugh and a quick raise of an eyebrow. The scrunched up expression on the smaller man’s face was most amusing to him.

“I have not ignored him, Dick. He’s been busy and so have I and everyone agrees that we should stick to our own for missions to go smoothly,” Tim explained but not without a curious tilt of his head. “I’m not exaggerating. We’ve been friendly.. but, old habits die hard.”

His brother watched the wheels in Tim’s head work on the problem as he reached for another slice of pizza on the table between them. “You have been _polite_ , is more like it. Brothers hug every now and then, when was the last time you gave him a compliment or even smiled at each other?” Dick said in between bites.

Tim bristled visibly at the accusation. “I thank him plenty!” 

“For work he did at the office or in the field, which is expected of him. And again, that’s just being polite,” Dick retorted with a roll of his eyes and nudging his younger brother with an elbow. Shoving the pizza box closer to him hoping he’d finally start eating, Dick licked sauce from his fingers. “Why are you suddenly so concerned about this?” He turned curious blue eyes at Tim who shrugged lightly.

“It’s distracting. The office has been my space for years and now **he** ’s there.”

“Learn how to share, Timmy,” Dick snickered, dodging a piece of pepperoni that Tim flicked off his pizza and in his general direction.

He had never considered himself a greedy individual, but the advise his older brother had given him proved more difficult to implement than he thought. It was their office now, their coffee machine, their breakroom and their rooftop where Tim ascended to after working hours to indulge in some personal time, alone. Unfortunately, Robin was there as well upon his arrival. 

“You won’t finish that financial report Lucius wants by morning,” Tim announced and watched on as Damian fastened the laces on his boots with a mighty pull, and glanced his way.

“Titans emergency. You’d think that after years of my expert leadership they develop the ability to think for themselves, but I suppose that was wishful thinking,” Damian responded and straightened to full length, his broadened shoulders filling his adjusted costume quite well. He was no Jason or Batman, yet, but defined well.

What a brat, Tim thought with a little quirk of his lip, because he would never not be amused by his attitude towards others as long as it wasn’t directed at him personally. No, not a brat, he was an arrogant young man now, one who glanced at him once more and plucked his mask from his face. His eyes were bright with a hint of uncertainty as he held his gaze.

“Finish the report tonight and I will attend the charity event upcoming friday in your stead,” Damian offered and steeled his eyes.

Tim squinted his own. It would take him another three hours at the office, minimum, to gather all the numbers Lucius needed from his brother. He could pretend to be too tired, but he was holding a foam container of coffee as they carefully observed each other, and he could spite him but had actually wanted to see that new action movie in the theater next friday instead of socializing all night. Tim lifted his drink and took a large sip, licking his lips somewhat with a nod of his head. 

“Deal,” he said and halted his turn towards the door when Damian raised his hand, much like a businessman would to seal an agreement. Tim wondered when he had removed his glove, as he awaited Tim’s own hand.

Only after they had shook on it did Damian place his mask and glove back, the familiar sound of a grapplegun accompanying his exit while Tim pressed the foam cup to his pursed lips. Raising his hand, he turned it that and this way, fiddling with his fingers thoughtfully. That was new, and not entirely unpleasant.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“I asked you to finish it, not get creative with it,” Damian said as he moved through well dressed Gotham socialites towards Tim in a similar five piece suit.

Sipping from a champagne flute, the smaller man glanced his way and shrugged lightly. “Lucius was pleased, wasn’t he?”

“Very much so. Now he expects me to add those graphs every time he asks for an update,” Damian countered chagrin by the unexpected development.

“You’re welcome,” Tim replied with a smirk as Damian reached for a glass of his own from a bypassing waiter.

“Is that why you are here? To ‘rub it in’?” His younger brother asked as he observed the wealthy and influential people littered about the spacious room. He spotted Lucius talking to European associates and his father slapping the back of an American politician with good-natured, but faux, laughter. A look of indifference was shared between them as they stealthily moved across the room to avoid conversation.

“Not exactly. Bruce still asked me to attend last minute. My German was quite useful to impress potential new investors,” Tim answered truthfully.

“Then it seems I owe you a favor,” his brother commented finishing his champagne with a thirst for an excuse not to get at least tipsy. He understood now that he was no longer just Bruce’s son, but part of the business how these events were most exhausting and nearly unbearable to attend unless slightly intoxicated enough to let foolish and ignorant banter slip from one ear through another and not rub at his face the entire evening.

“Get me out of here unnoticed by nine-thirty and I’d say we’re even,” Tim told him after a moment’s pause where both men smiled at passing board members of their company.  
Flicking his wrist to look at his expensive watch - Tim rolled his eyes at that - Damian nodded in agreement. “Certainly possible. Make your way to the banister on our eight ‘o clock by nine-fifteen and it will be done.” With that Damian left to mingle and join his father and several older men in a round of gossip that made him clench his jaws.

Tim watched on, amused and surprised by Damian’s devotion to uphold his end of the bargain. He did pester him a little, adding those graphs in the report would definitely make Damian think twice about ditching work a second time, but couldn’t say that he was entirely annoyed by his brother’s professionalism to divide time between the Titans and the company. 

It was something he had done personally for many years as well, and perhaps wished that he could have had a colleague to fall back on to finish work while he jumped from rooftop to rooftop to stop burglars in shady alleys or human trafficking in Gotham’s harbor. It had been difficult to be both Timothy Drake-Wayne and Red Robin at the start of his adulthood. Expectations all around, and whatnot. Damian Wayne would be no exception to this, he thought mindfully. Tim recalled his pizza night with Dick and finished his drink as well, thinking perhaps no harm could be done being a bit more friendly and supportive to their youngest as a big brother should. Dick would ruffle his hair proudly, he was sure of it.

There was a glimpse of rebellion in their eyes as they met a second time that night, seven minutes prior to their agreed time. Damian was shadowing him, he had noticed, always less than six feet away and steering him from conversation to conversation, gradually making their way towards the banister while passing by Bruce. Tim had to hide a grin behind a hand, coughing lightly to cover up the excitement that had taken hold of him as Bruce glanced their way in suspicion.

“He knows,” Tim whispered to his left where Damian was standing partially turned away from him seemingly minding his own business.

“I have a distraction set in place, there is no change in plan or schedule,” Damian replied softly with a hand stroking through his hair, slicking it back from his smirking face.

“Mind letting me in on that plan of yours?” Tim inquired nudging his elbow against Damian’s as he made way for a train of waiters carrying new appetizers.

“No. A genuine response is vital,” his brother explained and turned ever so slightly, long leg sliding along the marble floor directly in the path of the next trio of waiters emerging from the staff door.

Tim only had two seconds to form a glare in Damian’s direction before the so called distraction was set in motion, a poor man about Tim’s age tripping over Damian’s shiny shoe and successfully colliding with Tim. They made ruckus and the mess was on the floor and on his suit, Tim guacking at the stains and moist patches sticking to his skin. They had captured most of the guests’ attention as he tried to tell the profusely apologizing waiter it was just an accident. Damian caught his elbow with a flick of his tongue and announced he would accompany him to freshen up. Tim’s clear irritation was genuine, directed at his brother, and both men ignored the unimpressed look Bruce gave them on their way to the restroom.

When in the privacy of the unoccupied room, Tim pulled his elbow from Damian’s grip and spun around to jab a finger at his chest. “That was uncalled for, that man will possibly get fired. And didn’t I ask you to do it stealthily?” Tim huffed and puffed, not waiting for an answer as he turned to the sink to dap water at the stains of fish and crab paste on his white shirt.

“Your precise words were ‘unnoticed by nine-thirty’,” Damian retorted with another flick of his wrist. Looking satisfied, he nodded at himself. “There are three minutes to spare, given you stop protesting my methods and walk out, taking a left through the staff door appearing you want to talk to head of staff to address the accident. There’s an emergency exit door the kitchen staff utilize for cigarette breaks that leads to an alley where you can leave unnoticed, as was your request.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, shoe tapping the floor impatiently.

“You little shit,” Tim called him with a laugh that morphed into a half-hearted smile. Drying his hands on a paper towel, the smaller of the two men gave up on rescuing his attire. “This is revenge for the extra workload on those financial reports, isn’t it?” He looked up into the mirror to watch Damian’s lips form a smirk.

“As you sow, so shall you reap,” the brat-man retorted as if reciting Shakespeare.

Tim flicked bangs from his face and exhaled loudly, convincing himself it was not another laugh. Twirling on his feet, he held Damian’s gaze as he opened the door and resumed to bicker with his brother at hushed volume, but with obvious irritation. Damian was on his tail, following with long strides to Tim’s quick steps filled with faux annoyance as they neared the staff door.

“So, you knew I’d be here tonight,” Tim concluded as Damian’s plan fell in place. He smacked a hand to the door, attracting curious stares from guests as they entered. Their father took a moment to shake his head at their childish antics.

“I had overheard father’s phonecall,” Damian acknowledged leaning his hip against the door as it closed behind him.

The head of staff, an older woman in her fifties, scurried forward with apologies spilling from her lips. Damian motioned for her to go away, Tim showing her a kind smile. “It’s fine,” he told her to sooth the confused female.

Tim couldn’t deny how intrigued he was at the elaborate details of Damian’s scheme, and how it reminded him of their hostile younger days albeit they would have been rolling on the floor by now if that were still the case. The nostalgia caused him to chuckle once more, and dare he admit that he had actually _missed_ this? Dare he acknowledge he had messed with Damian’s genuine request on purpose, challenging him and falling into their old ways?

Damian quirked an eyebrow at Tim’s silent lingering gaze.

They continued through the bustling personnel in the kitchen, exiting the building into a quiet side alley. Damian remained in the doorway, checking their surroundings to make certain no one would see Tim’s departure.

“I do have to ask: what if I hadn’t asked for you to get me out of here?” Tim asked curiously.

Damian simply rolled his eyes. “There was no doubt about it. You have been wanting to go to the theater tonight for weeks.”

“How?” Tim tilted his head in astonishment.

“You have marked the day with many exclamation marks on the paper schedule on your desk.” The younger man explained and shifted his weight from one feet to another. “It hasn’t gone unnoticed to me or Lucius or father how dedicated you are to the company. You spent far more hours at the office than any other employee, and when adding our other activities it leaves little time for… self indulgence.” 

Tim opened his mouth, raising a hand mid air motioning for Damian to ‘hold the **f** up’. It was unexpected to receive acknowledgement of his devotion, yes, but there was something there, something with deeper meaning that had lead to this specific outcome tonight. Tim moistened his lips and raised his inquiring gaze from the ground to Damian’s uncertain eyes. It was the same expression he had witnessed that evening, on the Wayne Enterprise’s rooftop.

“Are you telling me.. you _planned_ our meeting on the rooftop last wednesday?” He asked carefully voicing his theory. Maybe he was incorrect and assuming things, but if he _wasn’t_ then this could most likely be the sweetest and kindest thing Damian had ever done for him. “And that this was all.. part of your plan to allow me a night off?”

“Allowing is not the correct verb,” Damian instantly protested, raising his chin in thought. “Perhaps… a token of gratitude.”

He was baffled to say the least. Tim pulled his lower lip between his teeth and chewed on it. “A simple ‘thank you’ would have sufficed,” he told the younger man gently, but Damian shook his head in disagreement.

“Your effort into the company that I will inherit is most valuable.”

“Were you always this dear to the world with the simple exception of me?” Tim joked in an attempt to cover his nerves at the unprecedented conversation they were having.

The frown that settled on Damian’s face diminished the light smile on Tim’s face. “I understand this hardly compensates for the years of hostility it took for me to become a peer. However, there have been few arguments between us as of late and, well, Richard did agree that we’ve come together gradually, but perhaps I was mistaken,” Damian’s voice grew softer with uncertainty as he shifted his eyes from Tim’s to the staff still diligently working behind him. 

Tim recalled the touch of Damian’s bare hand in his, the first skin contact they’d had all year, and without it leading to bloody noses and swollen eyes. The something that he had felt and had been trying to put his finger on was nothing hostile of sorts. On the contrary, and Tim felt somewhat embarrassed by his temperament that had caused his brother extra work, while it had been Damian’s intention to lighten his.

“Damian,” Tim called his name as he recognized the slight shift in the man’s physique that told him Damian’s flight reaction was kicking in.

Their eyes met once more although silence followed. Tim inhaled, aware of the quickening of his heart as he practiced the words in his mind. 

“Do you want to join me at the theater?” He finally asked, slowly.

“Yes,” Damian nearly instantly replied, both men sizing each other up carefully.

The spots of red on Tim’s cheeks, the dilation of Damian’s irises, their mutual surprise and earnest relief were obvious signs of their readiness to come together on friendly terms.

Tim smiled and swallowed against the tightening of his throat as Damian stepped out of the doorway and joined him at his side. There was a upward tilt of his lips, but Damian’s eyes were elsewhere, much like the way Tim had felt ignored by him at the office. Timid, unwilling to cause friction by unintentional nervous glaring that Damian was prone to, Tim took a moment to observe him and marvel in the idea that he was trying to appease him.

Who would have guessed the _something_ he had complained about at Dick’s appartement was simply a side of Damian he had never seen before?


End file.
